The Experiment
by QueenZenobia
Summary: S.S.A. Emily Prentiss decides to find out once and for all if her Unit Chief has feelings for her.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: I don't own these lovely characters.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading.**_

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A woman knows when a man is attracted to her. She can sense it in a glint of the eye or a nuance of the voice. She can feel it in the graze of his touch or simply by the way he leans towards her. It's a secret communication –a vibe, if you will– because before becoming lovers, their souls have already mated.

Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss suspected that he was attracted to her. She knew it because she was a a behavioral analyst for the FBI. Even more, she knew it because she was a woman. But could she be one hundred percent sure?

Unfortunately, not. There was room for doubt when it came to the carefully guarded S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner. Sometimes she thought she detected a longing in his glance or heard a confession in his words. But she could never truly hang on to the moment. Either he would make it disappear with the strength of his iron will, or it hadn't really happened at all. And that's what Emily was afraid of: that she was making it up. Like this morning.

Her com set failed in the field. Perhaps the battery died or its useful life depleted. Either way, Emily had not realized that she was out of the communications loop. With curiosity she watched Hotch sprint to her surveillance SUV. He nearly tore the door off its hinges.

"What the hell, Hotch?" she started, worried that he had blown her cover. But then she saw sheer panic in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he almost begged.

"Of course, I'm okay," she snapped. "Why wouldn't I be?"

And then it was over. The fear, the worry, the panic –it was all gone. He was Agent Hotchner again, cold and calculated, precise to an almost pathological degree.

"Your com isn't working," he explained matter-of-factly, holstering his weapon.

"It's not?" she asked sheepishly.

"Nope. I'll go get you a new one. And Emily? Don't be such a smart ass." And before she could answer, he closed the door.

Emily smiled at the memory. He had called her by her first name. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it felt special. And he had been worried sick about her. A warm, fuzzy feeling was filling her heart when her sensible side woke up. Of course, he was worried. They weren't exactly at a theme park; they were hunting a serial killer. Hotch would have been just as worried about any other team member.

"Prentiss, did you hear a word I said?" he now asked with an amused expression that seemed to ask _Agent Prentiss distracted?_

"I'm sorry," she laughed, realizing that she had been staring at him the whole time her brain had taken her on that little escapade. "I can't say that I did."

He smiled as well, beautiful dimples making him glow. It was a good thing Aaron Hotchner didn't often smile because each time he did, the earth stopped turning, or at least in Emily's mind it did.

"I said that you can join the team if you'd like. I'll take care of your file."

"Oh, thanks," she said warmly. She appreciated the offer. Surveillance involved more paperwork than usual. So she was stuck with the Unit Chief at the Dalton Police Station when the rest of the team was across the street at _Lucy's Diner_ grabbing a quick bite before departure time. "I'd really like that."

The raven haired beauty stood up and stretched her limbs. It had been a long, long day. Suddenly, she felt his eyes on her body. She knew he watched her; she could always sense it. But she could never quite catch him in the act. She was determined to catch him now.

Emily looked him steadily in the eye and asked, "Is it just me, or is it warm in here?" She cringed at having used a cliché, but decided to follow through. She unbuttoned her jacket and shrugged out of it. Her undershirt was a common white t-shirt, but it hugged her chest in all the right places. She usually wore another blouse over that t-shirt, but it was mid-summer in the Deep South, too hot for additional layers of clothing.

Okay, so Hotch was looking. What did that prove? That he was a heterosexual male in his prime. He probably would have looked if it was J.J. or Penelope.

Hotch held her gaze briefly, then returned to his file. The clearing of his throat was the only indication of being a little nervous, or did he simply need to clear his throat? "Yes, well, I think maintenance turned off the air conditioning unit at midnight."

Infuriating man! It was as if he had a shield with which he could deflect all her fire arrows. Unless he wasn't actually interested… Emily was decidedly frustrated at her inability to read him.

"Prentiss, is there something else you needed?" he inquired when she didn't move.

"Um, no." She grabbed her purse and made to leave. "You know what, Hotch? Why don't you come with me? Let's eat." And before he could answer, she added, "Something really hot and greasy. Then I'll help you with your files on the jet."

He wanted to accept her invitation, but he was debating it. Finally he smiled, "Something hot and greasy, huh?"

"Yeah," she smiled back. "And loaded with calories."

He gathered the files, including hers, and stuffed them in his suitcase. Then he donned his suit and accompanied her across the street. And Emily couldn't help but wonder: _Did he come to enjoy my company, or is he just hungry? Infuriating man!_

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 _ **A penny for your thoughts: Is Hotch attracted to her or not?**_


	2. Chapter 2

The calm after the storm is a terrible force to reckon with. Just ask Emily Prentiss.

That walk seemed eternal. Emily and Hotch still had another mile of forest to hike back to the main road where their SUV was parked. The only sound in the air was the soothing crunch of dry, autumn leaves under their military grade boots.

It had been an eventful morning. They caught the Un-sub, and Morgan and Rossi took him away, seething in contempt but careful to protect his constitutional rights. Downtown at the station, Reid and J.J. gave the victims' families closure. And Hotch and Emily processed the scene. So it was finally over after eight days.

Slowly her adrenaline levels subsided and she grew weary. With each step the Kevlar became unbearably heavy. Or was it that the images of the three mangled women were starting to surface, to be dealt with sooner rather than later? Emily took a deep breath and looked up at her partner. Brows tightly knit, lips in a thin line, Agent Hotchner was also lost in dark thoughts of his own.

"I know," he said meeting her glance. "I feel it too. Let's just take these vests off."

It was funny how they had learned to communicate without words. During this case, he openly favored her as his partner. No one questioned his decision but he felt the need to offer the team an explanation.

"Prentiss and I think alike," he said simply. Emily felt the heat of a blush rise to her cheeks. But then Reid said, "Yes, you two make me question my disbelief in telepathy." And the team laughed.

Hotch helped Emily out of her Kevlar, then he took off his own vest and dropped it on the ground with a thud. He sat on a fallen log as if he still felt weighed down. Emily quietly sat next to him, a sea of emotion behind her long lashes and black orbs. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments and then it started to rain. Emily laughed and the sound broke their grief. Hotch looked at her expectantly.

"I don't have anything against New Jersey, but the sooner we get out of this state, the better!"

His heart-stopping smile illuminated his features. "Agreed," he said and extended a hand to help her up. She felt his fingers linger on hers, but then he reluctantly turned away. She quietly followed, thoughts in disarray.

 _Damn it, Hotch! Just take my hand. Hell, just take me, right here in the woods under the rain. Make me forget my name as I scream out yours._

She giggled at the thought of informing Reid what she had just telepathically told Hotch.

"You know, Spencer, I think you're correct in not believing in telepathy," she would begin. "I just screamed at Hotch to do me in the forest, and he kept right on walking."

Of course, Dr. Spencer Reid would be terribly shocked. Emily would give anything to see his face! But then he would recover and say, "Well, you know, Emily, his inaction could also be attributed to the fact that it would be highly inappropriate to, and I quote, "do you in the forest," because he is your Unit Chief, and I doubt that "doing a subordinate in the forest" is a skill set he would want included in his resumé. In addition, he would no doubt be worried about deer ticks, which transmit Lyme disease – an unfortunate result of lying naked in a New Jersey forest. Just saying."

Emily giggled nervously and then gave in to unrestrained laughter. Hotch looked back at her with an inquisitive glance. She was laughing so hard her ribs hurt, but then she stopped suddenly. Sadness overwhelmed her and threatened to break through her neatly guarded façade. She had been in the lair of a killer where human beings had been dismembered. And all she could think about was seducing her boss? How was any of it normal?

"Oh, no," she whispered as she attempted with all her strength to keep the tears at bay. But after the first sob, others tore at her throat. Hotch was immediately by her side with his strong arms engulfing her. She wanted to push him away, but he wouldn't let her. He pressed her flush against him and said, "Let it out, Emily. It's okay." And she did.

By the time she was able to compose herself they were both trembling in the rain. Worried that he would catch a cold, she managed to say, "Let's jog back to the SUV. We need to get warm fast."

"Are you okay?" he asked. She was moved by the pained expression in his eyes.

"I will be," she assured him and flashed him the best smile she could muster.

"Let's go," he said and they easily jogged the remaining trek.

At the SUV they changed into dry clothes and the heater soon made them comfortable. But on the drive to the airport Emily thought about what awaited her back home: an empty house and a lonely night. The thought was unbearable and she closed her eyes.

"You know, Prentiss, when we get back, I could use some help with the reports. I hate to ask. It's been eight grueling days, but…"

"Yes," she interrupted. "I'll help you." And the well of tears instantly dried up.

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 _ **Author's Note: Thank you for your kind reviews. It's so much fun to receive them!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Change happens when you are forced out of your comfort zone.

Emily Prentiss was ready for change. She wanted –no, she needed– someone to come home to at the end of the day. And lately she dwelled a lot on how nice it would be to have a family to give meaning to her life. If she couldn't have that with Hotch, then she was willing to move on. But first she needed to be sure…

Hotch was comfortable with the way things were. She had become his right hand, his comfort, his support. Their relationship was permeated by trust and harmony. Emily decided that she needed to disrupt that harmony to force him out of his comfort zone. But how?

A few scenarios played out in her head, all of which she rejected. She wasn't going to date a stranger to make Hotch jealous. Emily Prentiss learned the hard way in her youth that casual sex had very real consequences. And she wasn't going to jeopardize the team's well-being on a case, or her performance on the job. So what could she do?

She stopped writing her report to glance at the Unit Chief descending the staircase.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, "I ordered us some Chinese food. Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's fine," she responded automatically. But, wait: what if she were in the mood for a salad, or a veggie wrap, or anything else? Shouldn't he have asked her _before_ ordering?

Then it hit her. She and Hotch had never been in an argument. Not once. How strange that she had never given any thought to that absence of conflict.

She realized that there had been two women in Aaron's life: Haley and Beth. He fought with Haley all the time, and he loved her till the day she died and then some. But he never fought with Beth, and the whole team knew that Hotch didn't love her, although he sincerely tried to.

So where did that leave Emily? Painfully she realized that there wasn't enough passion between them to ignite a fire of an argument. He didn't care enough about her to engage her in a heated difference of opinion. These thoughts made her heart sink with a stab of pain.

So she started to formulate her plan, en experiment, really: start an argument with him, and see if he cared enough about her to actually participate.

Hotch settled down into the chair he used whenever they worked at Emily's desk late into the night.

"I remembered you saying you liked Mr. Zao's Tuesday night special," he said flashing his wonderful smile.

Okay, maybe that fight could wait till another day when Hotch wasn't being so charming.

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 _ **Author's Note: Next chapter will be longer. I promise. Thank you for reading!  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

The team was upset. It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving and they were on the jet headed to Wyoming. They had never had to work on Thanksgiving. Never. Thanksgiving was sacred to Hotch because he spent it with Jack. But he accepted this case as a personal favor to the Absaroka County Sheriff.

Emily unbuckled her safety belt and entered the small kitchen behind the cockpit. Hotch was hogging the table with his report files.

"Avoiding the team?" she asked smartly.

"Just their glares," he answered bitterly.

She plopped down in the seat next to him and added, "And with good reason, Hotch."

"Oh, no. Not you, too."

"The team sent me on this mission," she started. "You know, Spencer was going to see his mom. And Morgan was going to spend time with his family. And don't even get me started on Garcia. She hardly ever has to come, and you drag her out on Thanksgiving?" He was still reading his file, but Emily wouldn't have it. "Hotch, could you please do me the courtesy of putting down your file? I'm talking to you."

He came out from behind the file and met her gaze defiantly. This was it! The fight she had been looking for was finally coming. It had been inordinately difficult to pick a fight with Hotch. She agreed with him on almost everything, and when they didn't agree, they compromised. But here was her chance.

"Emily," he started.

"Don't you _Emily_ me. The Unit Chief has to hear this."

He took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay," he said bravely. "Lay it on me."

"J.J. was taking Henry to Disney on Ice. And Dave –well, I don't actually know what Dave was up to, but I'm sure it involved silk stockings and red stilettos."

They both laughed. No, they weren't supposed to be laughing. They were supposed to be fighting.

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Hotch rubbing his temples. She felt a sudden urge to kiss away his tension. "To make me feel guilty? Because I already do."

"No, I want you to feel like crap."

They laughed again. So far this experiment was a failure: no raised voices, no angry retorts, just a friendly disagreement.

"What about you?" he inquired.

"What about me?" repeated Emily.

"What plans did the wicked Unit Chief destroy for you?"

"I guess the usual –doing paperwork with you so that we don't have to actually live our lives."

His smile faded and he looked away. "That was a low blow," he finally said.

"I know," she replied.

"And you're not sorry?"

"Not at all!"

"Why are you so moody today? You're not even on your period yet."

She gasped in horror and he immediately apologized, "I am _so_ sorry, Emily. I was completely out of line."

"Aaron James Hotchner!" she cried.

And he couldn't resist teasing her by saying, in her exact same tone, "Emily Anne Prentiss!"

Now she was really losing her temper, but instead of raising her voice, she lowered it to a harsh whisper. "Did you profile my _menstrual cycle_?"

"Of course not! That would be creepy. Believe me when I say that every guy on the team knows when his partner is menstruating."

"Oh, yeah? Does Morgan know when you're on your period?"

He laughed again. A clear, joyful sound that distracted her. "You know what I mean." He looked into her eyes and pleaded, "Can't you just let this go?"

"I most certainly cannot! You crossed a line, Hotch," she huffed.

"Fine, I'll tell you. I know it because you eat healthy and exercise every day, except when you're on your period. You love all this great junk food then: Rocky Road ice cream, Oreo cookies, pepperoni pizza…" The list was long. He was actually having a good time at her expense. She was about to speak but he continued with a smirk. "Plus you get bags under your eyes, which you expertly cover with makeup."

Emily could not believe her ears. "Oh, so you're saying that I'm fat and ugly when I'm on my period?"

He was alarmed now and the lawyer inside him came to the rescue. "I said no such thing! Do not put words in my mouth! The jury will disregard that testimony." Then he added, "You're adorable when you're on your period."

And with that he disarmed her.

"Come on," he coaxed. "Don't be mad at me. We're together more than we're apart. You probably know things about me that you shouldn't."

Emily smiled slightly. She was surprised by this playful side to Aaron Hotchner. And she loved it.

"There!" he said. "You thought of one. Tell me, if you're so brave."

She knew he was egging her on, but she could not resist the temptation. "Okay, I will," she said in a sassy tone. But then she felt uneasy. They were in uncharted waters: their first entirely personal conversation.

"Speak freely, Emily. I won't be angry," he encouraged. "No matter what you say."

"Okay." She took a leap. "You watch us from afar."

"Who?" he asked.

"The team. You watch us when we're having a good time together, but you don't join us. You just watch. And I know why."

He wanted to know just how discerning his agent was, so he asked, "And why is that?"

"Because you don't think you deserve to be happy. You're punishing yourself because of what Foyet did to you and your family."

His behavior revealed his discomfiture, but at last he responded, "You see much, Agent Prentiss."

Emily sensed that he was retreating, that this conversation was over. But before he could escape she ventured to say, "It's not true, Aaron. You deserve to be happy. And so do I."

They looked deep into each other's eyes, neither one turning away. There they found the empathy and understanding that can only be shared between two people who have experienced trauma. Who knows what might have happened after that soul-searching stare, if the magic hadn't been shattered by Spencer's clumsy entrance. He passed by them, oblivious to their moment and entered the lavatory.

Emily and Hotch laughed again.

"Okay," he said with a finality that meant she was dismissed. "You can go back and inform the team that you told me off and put me in my place. But please tell them that I need them on my side when we land. No more glares, okay?"

"No more glares," she promised. And before leaving she planted a hesitant little kiss on his cheek.

Emily returned to her chair feeling triumphant. She related her message to the team and then sat down to look out the window and replay that entire scene again and again.

Okay, so the experiment had failed because she and Hotch had not fought. But she concluded that it wasn't due to a lack of passion between them. They were just perfectly in tune to each other. She realized that the level of synchronization he shared with her was even greater than what he had with Hailey.

Emily felt that yummy warmth of happiness that filled her heart each time she allowed her feelings for Hotch to bubble forth freely. But this time there was a tinge of excitement with the added thought of that little kiss. He had been surprised and embarrassed and pleased. She closed her eyes and dozed off as a new experiment took shape in her thoughts.

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 _ **Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Please review.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note: I don't own the Longmire characters. Craig Johnson does.**_

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Turns out it's near impossible to reject a Wyoming cowboy's offer of hospitality. The Sheriff was broken up about the fact that the BAU missed Thanksgiving and he wanted to show them his gratitude for their service to Absaroka County. The evening was to be spent at the Red Pony where a continual soiree was guaranteed. So Hotch had no choice but to opt for an early morning departure on the following day.

The women of the BAU, who were cajoled by Deputy Moretti into wearing cowboy boots and a hat, arrived in her Dodge Ram pickup truck bearing the Absaroka County lone star.

"Well, come on!" urged the Italian spitfire and she led the way inside.

"We're right behind you, Vic," said Emily to the young woman who had become her fast friend. Suddenly filled with apprehension, she grabbed J.J. and announced, "I can't go in there. I look like a Vegas showgirl."

J.J. laughed and said, "No, you don't, Em. You look gorgeous. Hotch is going to love you!" Emily was speechless and J.J. batted mischievous eyes that said _the cat's out of the bag_.

"Why would you say that?" asked Emily when she found her voice. But then Penelope joined them and they moved along.

The Red Pony was bustling with activity, and excitement filled the air. The women made their way to the bar through country line dancers, a mechanical bull, and several pool tables. At the mahogany counter they were greeted by the handsome owner, Henry Standing Bear. The Cherokee Indian greeted them with his provocative glance and deep baritone, "Hello, ladies. You look ravishing tonight."

Penelope giggled nervously and said, "Well, aren't you just a piece of pumpkin pie."

"Penelope," chided J.J. with a look of motherly disapproval. But Henry wasn't offended. He smiled and handed them each a beer.

"Courtesy of Sheriff Longmire. And you will find your companions awaiting you at table number 12, over there." He pointed towards the opposite corner and Emily immediately searched for Hotch. She found him sitting next to the Sheriff with his eyes locked on her.

"See?" whispered J.J. "What did I tell you?"

Emily blushed because Hotch did indeed seem very pleased with his raven-haired agent. As the ladies approached their table, the team whistled and shouted their approval.

"Come here, Mama!" Morgan called Penelope, offering her a chair next to him. "My favorite cowgirl's sitting right here with me."

"I don't know, Derek. I might have found me a new sweetheart tending that bar over there."

"Who?" asked Derek.

"Dreamy, Indian, with a great accent."

"Ah, that would be the Cherokee Nation," commented Sheriff Longmire.

"J.J., you sit with me," invited Reid. "We're one vote short of declaring Rainier our favorite beer."

"But what if I vote against you, Spence?"

"Then you'll have the Sheriff to reckon with," added Rossi.

Emily was only vaguely aware of the team's banter. Her attention was focused on Hotch. His eyes were roaming over her body taking in her tight jeans and boots. When his eyes traveled up to her low neckline, his chest rose and fell with an accelerated heartbeat. He wasn't hiding his physical attraction and she felt a peculiar mix of pride and pleasure. Pride in possessing the attributes that seemed to please him so much, and pleasure at feeling so incredibly sexy in his intense gaze. He stood up and gentlemanly held out a chair for her.

"You look amazing," he said.

"Thank you." She accepted his complement with a thrill. And as he pulled his chair closer to hers, Emily Prentiss knew it would be an interesting evening.

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After their meal, the real fun began. Vic forced Emily, J.J., and Penelope to try out country line dancing, and they ended up loving it. After a few dances Emily and J.J. went to the restroom to touch up their makeup. Finally they had time for a five-minute heart to heart.

"Look, Emily, listen to what I'm going to tell you," started J.J. "Whatever your plan is with Hotch, whatever you're going to do, do it tonight."

"What are you talking about, J.J.?" asked Emily feigning ignorance.

"You know damned well what I'm talking about. I've never seen him like this, so willing and open. I think it's the alcohol in his system and the Sheriff's influence. But one thing is for sure: If you let him go back to his routine, this will never happen. You have to do something tonight."

"So you approve, J.J.?" asked Emily shyly.

"Of course, I do. This is what I've wanted for you both!"

They hugged and J.J. left like a storm, leaving a mess in its wake. Emily looked in the mirror and mustered up all her courage. "It's now or never, Prentiss."

Half way down the dark, narrow corridor she was met face to face with Hotch.

"Oh, Emily, I'm glad I found you. J.J. told me you had something urgent to tell me and I got worried."

 _Blessed J.J.,_ thought Emily. And like magic, everything came together in a split second. She slid her arms around his neck and stepped on her tippy toes to kiss him.

He was surprised, but his mouth was soft and pliant. He acquiesced under her gentle pressure to part his lips and she tasted him. He was absolutely delicious, but he was holding back. She wanted to tell him to just let go, but she was too preoccupied exploring the contours of his mouth. She couldn't get enough of him.

"Aaron," she sighed into him.

And that was it. She felt the moment he let go. He took over the kiss by gently pressing her against the wall and establishing an urgent rhythm. His intensity and hunger took her by surprise. Unbridled now, he was slowly devouring her. And at that moment she finally knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, "This is how he feels for me."

She wondered how long he had felt this way, and she was overwhelmed to think of the self-control he had been exercising. But that self-control was hanging by a thread now as they slowly but steadily continued to make out.

All too soon, though, her feminine sensibilities told her it was time to stop. She reluctantly pulled back and his mouth strained forward –oh, my, so eager– to find her again. But she slipped away from him. With a resolute stride she stepped out of the darkness and into the Red Pony. On her way back to the table she soothed her delicate skin where his stubble had chafed her.

"You look like you got kissed good and hard," laughed J.J. when she sat down. "Em, you're trembling. Here, have the rest of my beer."

Emily took a swig to settle her nerves, then another when she saw Aaron walking back to the table.

He didn't sit down. He grabbed Emily's hand and quietly told Sheriff Longmire, "Agent Prentiss and I are heading out. Can we borrow a vehicle?"

"Sure, you can take Vic's truck," replied the cowboy.

"What the hell, Walt?" spat out Vic.

"No worries, Vic. I'll drive you home," answered the Sheriff in his slow drawl and he winked at his favorite Deputy.

"Fine."

Vic handed Hotch her keys and he led Emily out of the Red Pony.

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 _ **Author's Note: Please R &R!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: Sorry for the cliff hanger in Chapter 5! I had no idea how to write the rest without changing the rating. But here it is, sweet not sultry. Thank you for doing me the incredible honor of reading my story, following, favoriting or reviewing.**_

* * *

Emily thrilled at the feeling of Aaron's fingers threaded between hers as he led her. Outside it was cold and still and the echo of muffled country music seeped into the air. A million stars blazed in the velvet sky above.

"Where are you taking me, Aaron?" she asked giddy with excitement.

"There's a safe house just outside town. Sheriff Longmire said we could use it."

He stepped in front of her and buttoned her coat to protect her from the biting cold. But when his eyes glanced at her mouth, he couldn't resist brushing his lips against hers.

"And are you going to have your way with me there, cowboy?" she asked with a country accent.

"There's nothing I want more," he assured her and the longing in his eyes made her temperature rise. "But I think we should talk first."

"Yes," she agreed. "Let's talk."

* * *

The safe house was in fact a little wooden cabin. It was well stocked with food and fire wood, but it was freezing cold. Hotch immediately busied himself at the fireplace while Emily selected a bottle of wine.

"So am I to understand that you were planning on seducing me tonight?" she asked pointing out the two wine glasses placed on the mantle.

"Not in my wildest dreams," laughed Hotch. "But Walt thought it might happen."

Finally the fireplace blazed red and orange, and the couple sat on the couch directly in front of it. Emily leaned against his chest and he gathered her into his arms. They sipped their wine, welcoming its warmth. Neither one wanted to break the silence, fearing what their words might bring. The logs crackled as the flames slowly consumed them.

Hotch laced his fingers through her hair and smiled. "I've wanted to do that for the longest time."

"How long?" she asked sitting up to face him. And his appearance in the vivid glow of the fire nearly made her breathless. "When did it start for you?"

"I can't really say," he answered. He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. His touch was like electricity and she felt the delicious ache of desire. "But it's been years now."

"Years?" asked Emily in disbelief. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You know why," he said sadly.

"You didn't think you deserved me."

"I still don't."

"But I've needed you so much, Aaron. Didn't you think about that? About how lonely I've been?"

"I always hoped you would find someone."

"But I couldn't." Her eyes glazed with tears. "I've been waiting for you."

"I am so sorry. But I'm here now. All I want is to make you happy. What would make you happy, Emily?"

This was it, the moment of truth. Emily Prentiss knew what she wanted and what she deserved. But she was afraid Hotch wasn't ready to give it to her.

"I want it all, Aaron. I want the house with the picket fence, and a family, and an adoring husband who comes home at a decent hour."

"Anything else?" he teased.

"Maybe a puppy," she smiled. "Can you give me all that?"

"I've been thinking about this for a while. And I think it's time."

"Time for what, Aaron?"

"To pass the baton to the next runner. It's time the team had a new Unit Chief."

Her heart skipped a beat. Could it be possible that for once everything she wanted was within her reach? "Why would you do that?" she asked.

"Because, Emily Prentiss, I'm in love with you. And I don't want to waste another second living without you."

"I'm in love with you, too," she whispered and the tears dropped to her cheeks.

He gently wiped them away and then kissed her deep into the night.

Fin


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: A very brief encore for my reviewers who were left wanting just a little bit more!**_

* * *

Emily loved everything about that little cabin in Absaroka County, with the wilderness on one side and Indian Territory on the other. In a spur of the moment romantic gesture she and Aaron bought it, to have and to hold the place where they first said I love you. And whenever they could steal a couple of days from their busy lives, they always made their way to Wyoming, to their cabin.

She loved the earthy smell of the log walls and roof. She loved the romance of the fireplace. She loved the privacy of a mountain retreat with no cell phone reception. But above all, she loved waking up just before dawn with the last of the living embers in the fireplace. The cold draft seeping in through the closed windows made her cuddle into Aaron's spooning warmth.

"Good morning, love," he would whisper sleepily into her neck, the rumble of his voice awakening a trail of goose bumps on her flesh.

"I'm cold, Aaron," she would often whisper back.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Fully awake now he would make love to her, rejoicing in the way their bodies molded together as one. And on one of those occasions, they cried out in ecstasy with the breaking of dawn, unaware that the new day had gifted them a little girl.

Fin, truly :)


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